


Rose of May

by DefaultJane



Category: Mass Effect, Shaynor - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9298862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane
Summary: Putting together an "unnamed Scandinavian furniture-manufacturer"-brand crib is a bigger pain in the ass than parenting.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fishbone76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishbone76/gifts).



> With huge, HUGE thanks to Fishbone76 for breaking out the whips and paddles to get me to finish this story, and for her assistance with it. :3

* * *

 

 Commander Shepard’s countryside house, May 10th, two years after the reaper war.

Shepard was swearing so loudly and profoundly it was enough to make James flee down the stairs and take a moment to try and figure out some way to calm the rageful Commander down. Her cursing was loud enough to be heard clearly even downstairs and James almost blushed at the colorful language. Not something that happened every day. He stepped into the kitchen and checked the refrigerator, sighing in relief internally when he discovered a few bottles of beer inside. He grabbed a couple and headed back upstairs, the furious redhead there clearly needed a break.

“I just don’t understand what the fuck is the fucking... this doesn’t make any sense!” Shepard complained, crumpling the old-fashioned paper instruction sheet in her hands furiously. She would’ve torn it apart had James not intervened and rescued it from Shepard’s wrath. God knew if she tore it, there’d be no chance she’d ever finish her task. He handed her the beer and straightened the paper out, calmly reading it for her then.

He swallowed back a laugh when he read the name of the crib, printed in large bold letters at the top of the paper. MILF. Apparently, the (in)famous furniture manufacturer hadn’t looked up what that could be an abbreviation of. Or then they didn’t care. Considering that the item they were putting together was indeed a crib, James was willing to bet his annual income that they’d done it on purpose because they knew they could get away with by claiming there was a translation error of some sort, or that it meant something nice and sweet in the original language.

“Here’s your problem, you’re trying to put it together using the wrong kind of screw. See?” he said, pointing at the manual and then pointing at the screw that was sticking out from the side of the crib, obviously too long for the hole she’d inserted it into.

“Well, why the hell do they have to have ten different kinds of screws!” Shepard sighed in exasperation, unwilling to admit she’d made the mistake, it was obviously the manufacturer’s fault for not making this clearer.

She had to admit, she was relieved Sam wasn’t here to witness her meltdown over failing at a simple task such as this. Normally, Shepard could take down a reaper with a screwdriver if need be, she could take a weapon apart and put it back together in ten seconds flat, she possessed the finesse and patience required to build model ships... but this damn crib? It got her beat. Her mind wasn’t in it.

James didn’t comment, nor did he bother to point out that assembling the crib would have been easy as pie had Shepard simply followed the instructions instead of trying to be clever and skipping steps. He knew better than to encourage her to aim her wrath at him. Besides, he had a feeling Shepard’s mood wasn’t solely brought on by the general agitation that came with having to assemble furniture; James was relatively certain she was also anxious about the upcoming perils of parenthood she’d have to face.

“Let’s take a break,” James suggested and Shepard gladly agreed, accepted the beer from him and took a seat on the floor among the pile of scattered pieces of wood, screws and tools.

“So... what’s it like knowing you’re gonna be a parent? And how’d you end up being the, uh.... donor rather than... I’ll shut up now,” he then trailed off and Shepard offered a rueful chuckle.

“As if I’d voluntarily ruin my body by carrying a child!” she jested.

Dying and then being brought to life from a state of being nothing but meat and tubes did bad things to one’s reproductive system, and as much funds and effort as Cerberus had put in bringing her back, there were some areas that had been a priority over the others. Truthfully, even if that hadn’t been the case, she would’ve still insisted on being the donor rather than the birth mother. For her, that felt more natural somehow. Well, if any part of it was exactly natural per se; it was science rather than nature.

Using that modern magic, the medical team had extracted bone marrow from Shepard, taken the stem cells and in time, converted them into sperm. Shepard was the first to admit that the words “female sperm” kind of made her want to cringe, even if it was... her own.

_And then the nice doctor harvested some eggs from mommy, put one of them and my stem cell kinda-sorta-sperm together in a petri dish, and shoved it all back to mommy, and that is how you were created, my little seed. Okay, yeah, I’m not telling that story even if the kid ever asks_ , Shepard mused.

“To answer your question... I don’t know. You’d think that I’d be ready and that there aren’t a lot of things that scare me, but honestly? This is the biggest unknown I’ve ever had to deal with... and that’s saying something,” Shepard mumbled, tearing at the label of the beer bottle.  
“I bet... but then again, kids are kids, most of the time they just kind of happen, and the parents do just fine, I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about,” James assured.

“I hope you’re right. I just worry that... I’ll screw it all up somehow. Or, what if the simple burden of being my daughter will mess her life up somehow? It’s not like she has a choice...”  
“Side question, how do you know it’s a girl?” James quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s a result of using the stem cell-method, the child is going to be a girl. Don’t ask me to explain it, I barely understand it myself, all I had to do was lie there and have bone marrow extracted,” Shepard explained, taking a sip from her bottle.

“Eesh,” James shuddered.  
“Yeah, well, just be glad that if you ever decide to have a child, you’ll have a better time contributing to it,” Shepard smirked and James laughed softly.  
“I’ll drink to that,” he said and reached to clink his bottle against hers before taking a long gulp from it, and she followed his example.

“It’s just... it scares me to think what she’ll have to go through just because of who I am,” Shepard then confessed.  
“Lola, you’re the savior of the galaxy, I doubt anyone dares to give your kid trouble.”

“I didn’t save the galaxy by playing nice... and I wasn’t always the savior either. I dread to think what she’ll eventually learn about me and my past,” Shepard mumbled, the label now torn away completely from the bottle, being ripped into smaller shreds by her nervous fingers.

When she’d been a child, she’d spent hours upon hours just daydreaming about what her parents must have been like. She’d watched thousands of people walk by, wondering if any of them were related to her, especially the times she’d seen people who had kind of looked like her. She’d wondered why her parents had abandoned her, or if they’d never had a choice in the matter, maybe they’d died. She couldn’t remember anything about them, or much of what her life had been like until she’d hit her pre-teens.

Once or twice, she’d considered asking Liara to meld with her and see if she could find something from her mind that she’d stashed away and was now unable to dig up by herself... but that would’ve been awkward for a hundred different reasons, even if she and Liara didn’t share a certain history. Perhaps it was better this way, some memories were best left forgotten... and sometimes, ignorance was bliss. If her parents had been terrible people, Shepard was glad she didn’t know anything about them. Likewise, she didn’t want her daughter to find out about the terrible things Shepard had done in the name of saving the galaxy. Sadly, considering her reputation, she didn’t think she could keep the truth from coming to light eventually. Question was how would she explain it all and how would her daughter react to it.

“Well, if and when she hears something less than flattering about you, she’ll understand, and she’ll know you were doing what you had to do, because she’s gonna be able to trust you and therefore believe you when you tell her how it all really went,” James comforted as if having read Shepard’s mind.

“Thanks,” she chuckled.

“I don’t claim to know what your childhood was like, but I get the feeling it wasn’t exactly rosy.”  
“Yeah,” Shepard nodded, not going into any details, grateful that he hadn’t asked for any either.

“And yet, you grew up to be a decent person. Just goes to show you can withstand a lot shit and turn out fine.”  
“Are you implying my daughter will have to withstand a lot of shit?” Shepard taunted and James stammered a little.

“No, that’s not how I meant it, I meant that... even if she did, there’s a chance she’d grow up to be awesome and generous and kind and sweet... like you did,despite everything,” he grinned, both of them knowing his awkward attempt at saving the situation with poor flattery was not working.

“Well, thank you, James, I’ll remember this,” Shepard smirked.  
“So, how’s Sammy doing?” he changed the subject hastily.

_Well, according to the long list of grievances she had me listen to earlier, she’s bloated, tired, swollen, her back aches... and I’m pretty sure she wants to kill me because somehow, this is all my fault,_ Shepard mused, but knew better than to repeat any of that out loud.

“She’s... ready to have the baby already,” Shepard said. Samantha was a couple of days past the due date, and much to her annoyance, the cramping last night had not turned out to be The Contractions, but at least the hospital staff hadn’t just sent her back home. As oddly guilty as Shepard did feel being here and not at the hospital with Samantha, she was the first to admit she’d be useless there anyway. Besides, it was Samantha who had told her to get lost, that she’d call her (or have someone call her) when it was time. Shepard knew better than to argue with her.

Another twenty minutes later, Shepard and James had assembled the crib and stepped back to admire their handiwork... not that there was much to admire, and almost as if to make a statement, the whole thing seemed to droop to the left a little.

“...yeah, I ain’t puttin’ my baby in that,” Shepard shook her head.  
“Why don’t you just get a big, comfy hammock where you can literally hang out with the baby?” James suggested.  
“That’s actually not a terrible idea.”

* * *

“And I thought you were scrawny when you’re fully-grown, but this is... I don’t even know!” Wrex scoffed amusedly as he looked at the baby, whose head was almost smaller than the tip of his thumb.

“Careful, Wrex, this tiny human could grow up the be the next savior of the galaxy,” Garrus warned him.  
“Let’s hope there won’t be a need for another savior,” Liara chimed in.  
“And if there will be, how about the Shepard-clan will just give it a break and let me show how it’s really done,” Grunt said and Wrex agreed with him, both of them chuckling.

“What is that, what is she doing?” Grunt then grumbled when the baby cried.  
“Crying, babies do that,” Liara chuckled softly at his confusion.  
“Give her to me, human, she obviously needs feeding!” Wrex said and held out his arms.

“Uh, no, I’ve got this covered,” Samantha shook her head vigorously, certain that the Krogan would undoubtedly try to feed the baby something like liquefied pyjaks... or, he’d go hunt down one of the Salarian staff and offer them as food. Or, possibly the worst case scenario, they’d all learn right there and then that Krogan males lactate. Samantha shuddered at the mental image of Wrex breastfeeding.

“Yeah, okay, this is something that requires privacy, so I suggest we get out of their hair,” James cleared his throat. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Samantha’s eye literally twitch when in addition to the crew already present at the time, Wrex and Grunt had muscled their way into the tiny, crowded room.

“You’re right, and I’m sure they’ll be running to us soon enough, begging us to babysit, we’d better go enjoy our freedom while we can,” Tali snickered.

With that, the crew that had been visiting began to exit and once the room was clear, Samantha blew out a breath before shifting a little and proceeding to feed the baby.

“They’re practically family and I love them, but my God...” she sighed.  
“Yeah, they can be a bit inconsiderate I suppose, but they didn’t mean any harm, they were just excited.”

“You mean you were and you invited them, didn’t you?” Samantha’s eyes narrowed and Shepard swallowed hard.  
“Well, just standing there, handing out cigars wasn’t doing it for me, I needed to show off a little,” she admitted awkwardly.

“You, show off? Surely, never,” Samantha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Shepard chuckled softly and kissed her cheek gently.

“Can you blame me? I mean, look at her, she’s perfect.”

* * *

Samantha reached to feel the other side of the bed and discovered it empty. Frowning a little, she got out and exited the bedroom, heading toward the baby’s room. As she’d expected, she found Shepard there, watching over her baby girl. Samantha paused by the door, leaning to the frame and smiled a little as she listened to Shepard carry on a one-sided, hushed conversation with the sleeping child.

“...no matter what anyone says, you’re only human. You’re allowed to make mistakes. You’re allowed to be flawed, and don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise. And with your flaws, you’re still perfect the way you are. Always remember that,” Shepard whispered as she stroked the child’s head lightly with her fingers.

“Shepard,” Samantha whispered and the redhead raised her gaze and smiled. She stood up straight and went to her, wrapping her arms around Samantha’s waist loosely before leaning to kiss her softly.

“She was fussing.”  
“I bet she wasn’t, you just don’t want to let her out of your sight,” Samantha countered and the awkward grin that passed Shepard’s lips spoke volumes.  
“Well, there’s that too.”

Samantha had to admit she’d been worried that by now Shepard would’ve ran off back to work on something, anything rather than just stay put. She’d never come across as the type who would have the patience to simply stay at home with the wife and the kid, but then again, a lot of things had changed recently. Perhaps it wasn’t that she’d been restless before, it was just that this was the first time Shepard had the chance to actually stay at home and enjoy being with her family. No more running back and forth around the galaxy, trying to forge alliances in a desperate attempt to beat what had seemed like impossible odds. She’d accomplished her mission and for now, everyone was focused on rebuilding.

Samantha hoped the peace would last, and that their daughter would never have any reason to try and live up to Shepard, but history had an unfortunate habit of repeating itself. Then again, the latest beating the entire galaxy had suffered was the kind that surely would not be forgotten quite as easily. She wished everyone would remember what had been lost simply because of stubbornness, selfishness and greed, and what it had taken to fix everything.

“Come have breakfast and let the poor girl sleep,” Samantha chuckled at the over-protective Commander.  
“Y’know, out of all the things I expected would be difficult about parenting, I’m beginning to think the hardest part for me is going to be accepting that I can’t protect her from the world forever,” Shepard mumbled quietly as she took one last glance at the tiny bundle that was her sleeping daughter. Such a fragile being, yet so amazing at the same time, capable of causing a completely new kind of a wave of emotions to surge through the legendary Shepard simply by existing.

Shepard put her arm around Samantha’s waist before walking beside her toward the kitchen to make breakfast. She felt her heart swell a little when she thought about how much she enjoyed the simple little things, and how much she loved Samantha. Her wife, the miracle in her life (well, the first miracle, the second being their child).

Shepard was the first to admit she’d beaten unimaginable odds her entire life, all the way from surviving on the streets as a mere child to her latest miracle, but out of everything she’d been through, seen, accomplished... having this wonderful woman by her side and having a family with her was what Shepard considered her greatest achievement.

She’d never met anyone like Sam before. No matter how awkward and nervous she could be at times, she was also the only one who’d never been afraid of joking with Shepard or challenging her, even prior to knowing the Commander on a more personal level. Well, apart from Jack who was always happy to tell Shepard to fuck off, but Jack was doing that just because she was... Jack, the badass who wanted everyone to know she wasn’t afraid of going to wherever it was necessary to shock people just for fun.

But Sam would... blurt out things when she got nervous or agitated, it was always genuine and delivered with such emotion. Sure, afterward, she’d ended up mentally kicking herself and questioning her mental stability every time she’d had the audacity to argue with the Commander... but that had been before she’d gotten elevated to the rank of Wife, and everyone knew Wife outranked Commander... at least in this relationship.

What they had was chemistry that nothing Shepard had ever experienced with anyone else could compare to. She’d never admitted it to Samantha, but that time she’d come to her cabin for chess and a shower, Shepard had been nervous. They’d chatted and flirted before, sure, and the things Samantha had been saying were in their own way subtle, but easy to interpret at the same time... and still, Shepard had hesitated for a second. When she’d cockily just walked into the shower, essentially uninvited, she hadn’t been sure. She was used to people wanting her for various reasons (some liked how she looked, some liked who they thought she was based solely on her reputation, some liked her just because she was tough), but she’d expected that Samantha might actually turn her down, because she’d been the one who had challenged her. _She_ was the one _Shepard_ wanted. Always had.

_My wonderful toothbrush-girl_ , she smiled.

“Shepard, you’ve been a parent for six weeks, I’m sure there’ll be more difficult things on the way. Just wait until she hits her teenage years,” Samantha commented, waking Shepard from her thoughts.  
“Excuse me, aren’t you forgetting my little Krogan son? I managed to guide him through his teenage-confusion, and I’m pretty sure Shay’s won’t involve having to take on a thresher maw.” “

Shay?” Samantha’s eyebrow quirked as she turned to look over her shoulder at Shepard. The Commander seemed to shrink a little under the gaze, but shrugged then.  
“Well, it’s been six weeks, I had to start calling her something other than ‘baby’, and since you’ve been no help at picking a name...” she trailed off.  
“Shay...” Samantha repeated, trying the name on for a size and to see how it would roll off of her tongue, “Shay Shepard sounds silly.”

“Try saying that three times real fast,” Shepard interjected, but Samantha ignored her.

“As in... isn’t a bit too much of... sh-sh-sh-shush-noises?”  
“Which is where a middle name comes in. Shay Danger Shepard has a ring to it,” Shepard grinned and Samantha rolled her eyes.

“How about Niahm?” she suggested then and Shepard ran her hand over her chin as she thought about it before finally nodding in agreement.  
“I like that,” she smiled and wrapped her arms around Samantha from behind, leaning to rest her chin on the other woman’s shoulder.

“Since you’re there, how about helping me with breakfast?” Samantha then said and Shepard pulled back slowly.  
“Sorry, nope, can’t, gotta feed the fish since somebody still refuses to do it for me,” she smirked, shaking her head a little.

“Yes, yes, I will never live up to Kelly, that much is clear,” Samantha drawled.  
“Is someone jealous?” Shepard teased and Samantha sighed.

“If I am, I will not admit it,” she shrugged and turned her attention to the eggs that were waiting for her to crack them open.

Truthfully, she wasn’t jealous as much as she was envious. Kelly, and so many others, had been through more things with Shepard, they’d known her longer, they were privileged to having known the legend before she’d become a legend. Samantha had gotten on the train just before the final destination, she’d missed most of the journey. Then again, as much as she had missed out on, she was the one who’d gotten to begin a new journey with Shepard, one hopefully far less grim and stressful. Looking at it that way, she felt like she’d gotten the better deal in the end.

* * *

“What the bloody hell is that?” Samantha exclaimed when she walked into the living room and saw the contraption James and Garrus were putting together while Shepard watched over them, holding Shay in her arms.

“I would’ve thought that by your age you’d know what a hammock is,” Shepard taunted.  
“And what’s next, you’ll fill the room with sand and pretend you’re on a beach?”

“Oh, now there’s an idea. Why go to the beach when you can bring the beach to you?” Garrus commented as he measured the two-by-fours carefully before instructing James where exactly to drill the pilot holes to. While he was doing that, Garrus proceeded to eyeball the room to find the perfect spots to hang the hammock from; after all, one wouldn’t want it to be hanging too high or too low. Once he’d picked the spot, James went to drill the lumber into place and proceeded to finalize the installation by hanging the hammock.

“And now, a test drive,” he said and settled to lie down, adjusting the pillow underneath his head before pushing himself a little to rock back and forth slightly. Nothing broke or even creaked, and even Samantha had to admit, it looked quite comfortable.

“You might want to keep your Krogan son away from it, though, I have a feeling he exceeds the allowed weight capacity,” Garrus noted and Shepard chuckled at the mental image of Grunt getting himself tangled in the hammock.  
“I’ll remember that, thanks.”

“So, Lola, how about a round of drinks on you for our efforts, and for my great idea?” James inquired with a grin as he got up.  
“What James means is, Samantha, can Shepard come out and play?” Garrus elaborated.

“Fine, but make sure she won’t come back with a wheelbarrow of sand,” Samantha commented and reached to take Shay into her arms.

“No promises,” James smirked.  
“I’ll be back soon,” Shepard assured and reached to kiss Samantha’s lips softly.

“Take your time, I could use a break from you,” she grinned.

“No, you couldn’t, we all know you can’t get enough of me,” Shepard quirked an eyebrow.

“In that case, let me rephrase. Go, before I change my mind,” Samantha chuckled. 

* * *

The last time Shepard had over indulged, she’d ended up waking on a couch at Purgatory, being on the receiving end of a somewhat amused and oddly judgmental look from Aria. This time she found herself from her own couch, being stared down by her space hamster who sat on the coffee table, nibbling on a piece of carrot.

_She doesn’t feed the fish, but she does look after Mister Janeway, that’s something,_ Shepard smiled and then grunted. Smiling hurt. Actually, her whole head felt like it was about ready to split open. She could’ve sworn she actually felt it crack a little when Shay’s cry pierced through it.

“Oh, God,” Shepard groaned.  
“Feeling great this morning, I expect?” Samantha inquired in an amused tone as she walked through the room, rocking the crying child in her arms to calm her down.

“On a scale of one to ten... one being mildly uncomfortable, and ten being getting spaced... I’m feeling one hundred and seventeen.”

“Aww, poor baby,” Samantha said softly and sat on the edge of the couch, reaching to run her fingers through Shepard’s messy dark red hair.

“If you bring me some water, I promise I’ll never ask you to feed the fish again,” Shepard said weakly and Samantha chuckled.  
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said and went to grab a tall glass of ice water.

Shepard rose to rest her weight on her elbow and accepted the drink from Samantha, her hand noticeably shaking. It was mostly due to the hangover, but underneath it all was also one of the several injuries she’d suffered when she’d destroyed the reapers. The shaky left hand was a minor inconvenience, as was the limp. Quite honestly, what bothered her more were the bad dreams. They were less frequent nowadays, but still a little too vivid for her liking.

“Coddle me,” Shepard then requested after emptying the glass and patted a spot on the couch.  
“And all of a sudden I have two babies to take care of,” Samantha smirked and took a seat.

“Didn’t you say you wanted two?” Shepard countered as she moved to rest her head in Samantha’s lap only to make a face and blow out a breath when Shay decided that having her backside in close proximity to Shepard’s face was the ideal time to let out the gas that had troubled her tummy for a while now.

“Eugh, what did I ever do to you to deserve this?” Shepard whimpered to the child whose response was to laugh.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll spare you from having to change her.”  
“You’re wonderful.”

“I’m not doing it for your sake, I’m doing it because I’m convinced you believe changing a diaper involves a blow torch,” Samantha smirked as she exited the room.

“It’s how my mother did it!” Shepard called out after her.

When Samantha returned a while later, Shepard had moved to comfortably rest in the hammock. She gestured a little and Samatha got the message, moving to her and gently handing the baby over to Shepard. The child fussed a little as she tried to figure out why her point of view was so different all of a sudden.

Shay pressed her little hands against Shepard’s collarbones and did a half-push up, looking around and finally paused to stare at Shepard before blowing a raspberry and laughing. Shepard returned the favor (sans all the drool) and that elicited a high-pitched shriek of joy from the child. Their little game went on for a while until Shay got tired of holding her head up and just slumped to rest it on Shepard’s chest.

“Come here, toothbrush-girl. You know there’s room for two,” Shepard then smiled and Samantha joined her. It took a while to adjust and get comfortable, but it was worth it. Shepard lowered her leg from the hammock and planted her foot firmly onto the floor, pushing a little then to rock them all back and forth slowly.

Samantha put her arm around Shepard’s waist and snuggled her neck for a moment before resting her head on Shepard’s shoulder as the redhead wrapped one arm around her wife and the other around their daughter who was beginning to fall asleep in the gentle, safe warmth she was being held in.

“I love you,” Shepard whispered to the child and then turned to nuzzle the top of Samantha’s head before kissing her forehead and mumbling quietly, “And I love you, with my whole heart.”

Samantha smiled and pressed herself tighter against Shepard.

“I love you too, and I’m sure Shay does as well.”  
“I know she does, she's told me many times. I speak baby,” Shepard smirked.  
“Of course you do,” Samantha laughed softly.

“And for your information, she told me she totally wanted Danger to be her middle name.”  
“Well, then tell her that as long as she lives under my roof...” Samantha began the worn out parent-comment and Shepard chuckled.

“This is the happiest I have ever been in my entire life,” she then said seriously.  
"Likewise," Samantha commented in a voice so soft it made satin pale in comparison. She reached to kiss Shepard’s cheek lightly before snuggling back into the side of her neck.

“Don't you think Shay totally looks like me?” Shepard then said proudly, both of them knowing that was hardly true, the child didn’t look like anyone other than herself just yet. But far be it from Samantha to burst Shepard’s bubble.

“Yes, but only because she’s passed out and drooling."

 

**End**


End file.
